#I am desperate for Ezra and Maul being a weird master-apprentice pair
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Title: eucalyptus leaves
Summary: Maul ends up taking temporary custody of a teeny, tiny, de-aged Ezra. He does the best he can while causing minimal despair and suffering (as these upset the worm-child).
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There are...many types of human formula in this convenience station. Rows upon rows of them, set on shelves that reach even above Maulâs head.
He must have stood there staring for too long because a human woman clears her throat next to him and asks him how old his âlittle guyâ is.
Maul doesnât know. Ezra offers no help here. He is preoccupied making unhappy snuffling sounds against Maulâs clavicle.
âI just met him,â Maul lies.
âOh? An absent father no more? Glad you bit the bullet. Finally a guy with a sense of decency around here,â the human scoffs.
Maul blinks.
He bit no bullet?
It must be an idiom? Probably Corellian. Humans love Corellian idioms.
âCan I see?â the human asks.
No. Maul has taken charge of this little grub and the last thing he is doing is letting someone else witness its defenselessness.
âAww, what a cutie. Look at those cheeks. Mama must be quite a looker. He doesnât take after you, after all.â
This human elbows Maul in the ribs and winks at him. He realizes now that she thinks that Maul has bred with a human female and produced Ezra this way.
Maâam, he is just trying to pick formula. He did not come here to become an object of fantasy.
âHis mother has abruptly removed herself from the situation,â he lies. âI have no supplies and am unfamiliar with human needs.â
This woman puts a hand over her mouth.
âShe left you?â she asks.
Maul supposes that nodding is the best way forward here.
âWhatâd you do?â
âIt wouldnât have worked out. She deserves better,â Maul says.
âOh dear. Oh, you poor thing. Probably didnât expect her to leave the baby, did you? And who could have?â
Yes, this tone sounds like sympathy. Good. Now Maul canâ
âHow many do you have? I mean of the little ones with the horns? You got a couple, donât you?â
Even humans can read âbreederâ on Maulâs skin apparently. Terrible.
âOnly relatives,â he says. âHumans are much more...fragile.â
âThat they are, hon. Here, he looks to me like heâs four or five months. You want the blue-top; itâs for up to six months. This oneânot that one, no that one gave my youngest nothing but pure diarrhea for weeks. This one. Itâs worth the extra credits, believe you me.â
Maul does. He will purchase the cannister, thank you. Nowâ
âYouâll be needing some diapers for him, too, wonât you? Aisle four, hon. Just behind this one. Theyâre labeled by year and month. Same with the clothes; but Iâm afraid there isnât much selection.â
Humans are at least methodical in their efficiency. Maul must give them this small piece of praise.
âThank you for your assistance,â he says, still holding the cannister.
âThink nothing of it. You just got your little marshall there safe, warm, and fed. Bye-bye, boo-bear. Bye-bye.â
Ezra coos at being spoken to. He flexes a wet fist against Maulâs collarbone.
  --
The child is outfitted.
The child is fed. There is a device that humans have made with a rubber false-teat for this purpose and for all its ridiculousness, it serves its function exceedingly well.
Ezraâs presence in the Force grows content and warm as he is fed. His noisemaking takes on new garbled pitches and shapes. Finally, with enough energy to explore, he discovers the pin in Maulâs ear.
This is a mistake.
There is no longer a pin in Maulâs ear. He canât remember ever having removed it since it was placed there, but that way, only pain lays.
âNo,â he tells Ezra.
His orders go unheeded. Ezra wants to rub noses with him.
It is...endearing. Maul sighsâ
--and catches the hand going for his horns. He bites it gently, and watches Ezraâs eyes blow wide at the feeling. An apology lick should soothe him, but instead inspires a torrent of high-pitched noise making and maggot-squirming.
It appears that Maul has hit upon several euphoric baby-texture-buttons entirely by accident. He tries to soothe the boy back to tranquility to no avail. There are now two hands desperately reaching for his horns. When one is captured, the other takes up the cause.
Maul ends up trapping both of them in a hand.
âNo,â he says.
The biting is only encouragement. Heâs going to have to start with reason and end with removal.
Ezra hiccups and begins a long, drawling sound. Maul rolls his eyes and releases the hands. They have forgotten their mission. Distress is upon them all.
Woe is the babe.
Woe is the babe for protection from self-maiming.
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#darth maul#ezra bridger#ficlet#fic#this happened because I am waging a one-bitch-battle in the Darth Maul & Ezra Bridger tag on Ao3 to create content about them#that doesn't center on an abusive relationship there#I am desperate for Ezra and Maul being a weird master-apprentice pair#I am similarly desperate for Kanan to be constantly telling Ezra that maul is NOT his master#in any way shape or form so there will be no chatting no messaging no texting no voicemails no--
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